12 AM
by spobylol
Summary: 12 AM— that's when Frank looks over to the side and realizes he feels something he's never quite felt before in his life.


**Hello! This is a fluffy little Flaurel one-shot I published a while back onto AO3 (which you can check out! The username: spobylol). I've just created an account on FF, and have been transferring my stories from there onto here.**

 **Anyway, thank you for reading this story! I hope you all enjoy it.**

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12 AM

It's 12 AM and they both can't sleep. It's 12 AM when they're wrapped up in the blankets on a cold December night in Frank's apartment. 12 AM— that's when Frank looks over to side and realizes he feels something he's never quite felt before in his life.

A smile emerges on his face. He spoons the girl sleeping next to him, wrapping his arms completely around her, pulling her close against his bare chest. She's not asleep, and she feels his heavy gaze on hers. She turns the other side so she can face him. Her piercing blue eyes lock with his, and his smile grows bigger.

" _What_?" Laurel demands, completely confused about why he's looking at her like that.

"Nothing, nothing," he brushes it off, trying to hide his smile. "I just.. I can't sleep. That's it."

"Yeah, well, neither can I," she tells him. " _Especially_ when you're looking at me like that."

"I can't help it. You look cute when you sleep," he admits, pressing his nose against hers. "And what, you could see the way I was looking at you when you were facing the other direction?"

"Yes!" she cries. "I can tell when you're looking at me, Frank."

He chuckles, reaching his hands down to find hers. He laces his fingers with hers, toying them gently. They've been dating for about two months. She practically sleeps over every night. He doesn't really know what to do at this point. All he knows is that he has these weird feelings. He gets butterflies like a little boy when she kisses him or looks at him. He can't help but smile when she says those witty remarks of hers, too. And _her_ smile. God, it's perfect. She's beautiful, really. He's found many women attractive in his life and acted upon their attractiveness, but he's never looked at a woman and immediately thought of her as beautiful. Laurel Castillo is just beautiful.

" _Stop_ ," she demands. "Don't look at me like that. It makes it hard to sleep."

He can't believe _this_ is his girlfriend. He's never been so lucky in his life. He's never been so happy. Yeah, happy. He's _genuinely_ happy.

He doesn't stop looking at her like that. Instead, he leans in slowly and places a kiss on her lips, squeezing both of her hands as their lips lock. She knows it's late and they have work the next day, but she kisses back. It's not like she could sleep, anyway.

"What the hell is up with you?" Laurel asks. "You're being weird."

"Are you telling me I can't give my own _girlfriend_ meaningful looks and kiss her passionately at midnight?" Frank teases, pulling her closer so her head is resting on his chest.

"Girlfriend," she repeats. "That's the first time you've said it out loud."

"Is it?" he asks, surprised. "I should say it more. It sounds great."

"Seriously, what is up with you?" Laurel demands, looking up at him.

"I don't know," he answers. "For the first time in my life, I've got something I wanna keep. I'm really happy with you, Laurel. I really, really am."

This causes her to smile. A blush begins to appear on her face. It makes her warm and fuzzy inside when Frank gets all sentimental and cliché on her. It's funny: in the moment sometimes, he just gets so emotional and it makes him act different. It's not like that hard douche act he puts on at the office.

"I'm really happy with you, too," she tells him, and gives him a short, chaste kiss.

She re-adjusts herself on his chest, and shuts her eyes. He wraps his arms around her, shutting his eyes as well. He's amazed he's here in this moment with her. She's actually his girlfriend. He's _actually_ the boyfriend of this amazing woman. He hates himself for feeling this way. Normally, he's good at putting his emotions away, but Laurel freaking does something to him that makes him lose his tough-guy act. She has this effect on him that nobody else does.

This is love.

It must be. He's never felt anything quite like it before. Everyone always says you just know when you love somebody, and he thinks he knows. And if this is love, he's never felt it before in his life until this moment with her. He's said he loves a lot of things, but he's pretty damn sure this is what it actually feels like to love somebody.

"I love you," he mumbles out, but it's audible. He doesn't open his eyes, and just lays there.

Audible enough for her to hear, even when she's trying to sleep. She could pretend like she didn't hear it to avoid saying it back. She's in shock. She can't believe _Frank Delfino_ just told her he loves her.

"What?" she chokes out, her eyes opening.

He stays silent. He can't believe he said it. Now he's beginning to regret it. Why did he say it? They haven't even been together that long! There's no way someone like Laurel could love him. Could she? It doesn't seem like she's going to say it back, and he begins to panic. She can feel his heart beating heavily from where her head his positioned on his chest. It surprises her that he's so nervous to tell her he loves her.

"Sorry—" he begins to apologize.

"Sorry for what?" she asks. "Telling me you love me?"

He feels like an idiot. His cheeks are burning up, and his heart is pounding. He feels mortified. She doesn't love him back, does she?

"Frank," she begins. "Why do you love me?"

He ponders it for a moment. There are so many reasons, but how does he capture those feelings with his words? He doesn't know how to describe his feelings in words. Feelings are for feeling, not saying aloud!

"I don't know," he responds. "I can't explain why. I just do. You're... you. And even if you're not going to say it back, I don't regret saying it because I do love you, and—"

"I love you, too," she cuts him off.

His eyes go wide. He was not expecting her to say it back tonight, or maybe even ever.

"And why do _you_ love _me_?" he asks.

"I don't know, either. You're Frank, that's why," she says, putting her hand on the back of his neck. "I like saying it. I love you."

He laughs.

"You scared me when you didn't say it back," he tells her.

"Well, _you_ scared me when you said you love me. You took me by surprise, you know," she says.

"Isn't that what makes it fun?" he raises his eyebrows. "How boring would it be if you knew I was gonna say it right then and there? It's more fun when I take you by surprise."

She rolls her eyes. He can be such a weirdo sometimes. But, he's her weirdo, and she loves him. She doesn't know why she was so shocked when he first said it. She's loved him for quite some time, too. It's just odd to hear him say it out loud.

"Is your old place rat-infested yet?" he asks.

"What?" Laurel asks, completely confused.

"Ya know, the apartment you're _supposed_ to be in," he chuckles.

"Oh, is this your way of telling me to go home?" she asks, although she already knows the answer is no.

"Quite the opposite, actually," he says, putting his hands on her cheeks.

"Is this your stupid way of asking me to move into your apartment?" Laurel asks.

"Maybe. It depends if the answer is yes or no," he chuckles.

"You know, I pretty much thought I already live here," she jokes.

"I'm assuming that's a yes," he says.

" _Duh_ ," she rolls her eyes. "And as much as I love you, as I can now openly say as much as I want, if we don't get some sleep, we're never going to wake up in time for work, and Annalise is going to kill both of us. Then, if we're both dead, I'll never be able to get my stuff into your apartment tomorrow."

"Right. We can't let _that_ happen," he chuckles, and kisses the top of her head. "And by the way, I'd prefer it if you would call it _our_ apartment now instead. Good night."

She can't help but smile like a fool as she tries to shut her eyes. She's still in shock that all of this just happened.


End file.
